Showing posts with label magical realism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magical realism. Show all posts

Monday, April 19, 2021

Review of The Mirror Season by Anna-Marie McLemore

 


The Mirror Season is my second book by Anna-Marie McLemore even though I own all of their previous releases. This book made it very clear that McLemore’s writing is simply one of my favorites. Their writing is just pure magic! The Mirror Season had me hooked from its very first line: “When my bisabuela first came to this country, the most valuable thing she carried with her was something only she could see” (1). This is a story of survivors and learning to live in a body that doesn’t feel like yours anymore. The main character, Graciela Cristales, loses her confidence as a result of the assault and her journey centers around redefining who she is and living with the guilt of what happened.


The book follows Ciela’s perspective and the reader learns about the night of the assault through her. The unraveling of the narrative was amazing. We got bits and pieces which Ciela felt comfortable sharing with the reader. She was in control of the narrative, as a sexual assault survivor Ciela felt a loss of control over herself. Through the information she gives the reader she takes control of her story, signaling how SA survivors’ stories are theirs to share how they see fit. I enjoyed how information was revealed to us and so many things caught me by surprise. 


Moreover, the layers of her story interweave with Lock’s story. Lock was at the same party as Ciela and their assaults happened simultaneously. They meet once school begins and form a friendship. The dynamic between Ciela and Lock was great and filled with humor. One of the most memorable moments was when Ciela brought a puppet named “Valentina” to cheer up Lock during their time in detention (73-74). Humor is used as another way of taking control of their story. The jokes between the characters is what moves forward their relationship. In an interview with the Write or Die podcast, AM McLemore mentioned how The Mirror Season has the most humor out of all their books because it is something SA survivors do. They do so to contrast the traumatic experiences they’ve survived and again as a way to show their autonomy. McLemore’s use of humor shows that even with traumatic experiences there are ways to rediscover the self and that is done with expressions of joy like humor. 

 


Another aspect of Ciela’s journey means becoming La Bruja de los Pasteles once more. Ciela has a gift, inherited from her great-grandmother, which tells her what type of pan dulce someone needs or what pan dulce will soothe them. Losing herself causes Ciela to lose her ability to know about the needs of others. Her healing journey and the way back to her gift means finding herself. McLemore makes it clear with Ciela’s gift that caring for others and being there for them requires the ability to take care of the self first. Furthermore, Ciela’s gift is truly fascinating, and I’m looking to explore it more in an upcoming paper. Here’s an example of her magic in action as customers approach her bakery booth at a town festival: 


Las magdalenas de maíz to a woman finishing chemotherapy, because she needs something mild to keep but with enough flavor to remind her she can still taste. Cuernitos de crema to a couple who found each other again forty years after meeting in high school (269). 


Ciela’s magic has a healing quality to it which is reminiscent of curanderos. These are healers in Latin American who practice traditional medicine to treat various ailments, they can be physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual ailments. In the passage above Ciela aims to cure ailments with her abilities. She is attuned with whomever visits her booth and knows exactly what will soothe their being. Throughout the book the reader experiences her ability and how it is an essential part of her. Ciela’s magic is part of a familial tradition but it is but a small part of the connection she has with her family.

  

By the end of The Mirror Season, Ciela became one of my all-time favorite fictional characters. One of the things I loved most about her was the bond she had with her family. Family interactions in YA is something that I pay close attention to. A lack of family interaction makes the teenage character seem more adult and independent. This fictional emancipation rids the narrative of interactions with family members. Relations with families is an important aspect of identity formation since the family is part of people’s first social interactions. Ciela’s love for her family is found all over this narrative. They are in the stories she tells, her experiences, and as mentioned before in her magic. Throughout the novel, Ciela gives the reader many tidbits on her family and she seems to have a story fitting for many occasions. This is how her love for them comes through and it shows how a teen can have meaningful relationships with her family and be part of a novel. These relationships let the reader know of who Ciela is before the start of the narrative, it gives her a background story, and makes her a more well-rounded character. The Mirror Season depicts how these bonds have a place within YA. Ciela has not been emancipated, yet the journey is still hers.

  

Another topic McLemore explores is the way society sees and treats brown bodies. The author touches upon how brown bodies are so over-sexualized and seen as an open invitation when they are not. I found this extremely relatable, reminding me of my own experiences and how from a young age my body has been seen like that. Despite the over-sexualization Ciela is taught to love her body from a young age by the women in her family. She describes this experience in the following: “my mother is the one who told me my curvas were worth celebrating. Every day growing up, I came home to a family where hips and thighs meant health and beauty, and it saved me from thinking there was something immodest and shameful about my body” (105). Ciela’s experience with her body is something I also found relatable because it mirrored (I had to do it!) my own experience and journey with loving my body. I think it’s really important to encourage body acceptance from a young age. McLemore shows how we should celebrate bodies like Ciela’s and how doing so may have a big impact on self-esteem.

 

 In The Mirror Season the reader is taken on Ciela’s journey of regaining her confidence, finding love, and living as a survivor. The novel uses magical realism and elements of “The Snow Queen” fairytale to present the reader with a raw exploration of being a sexual assault survivor. Her friendship with Lock showed how survivors are not alone and that humor can be a useful tool for finding joy. The story has so many aspects to it that I loved: the fairy tale elements, Ciela’s character, self-love/body acceptance, and the magic are just a few of them. The Mirror Season is going to be one of my top recommendations for a while!


-NA


Sources:

McLemore, Anna-Marie. The Mirror Season. Feiwel & Friends, 2021. 

Valladolid, Fabian. “Who Is a Curandero?” Curanderismo, www.asu.edu/courses/css335/page3.htm.  

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

My Love Letter to Magical Realism


 Still from Pan’s Labyrinth

I love magical realism.

I think I read my first magical realism book in middle school. I got “Green Angel” by Alice Hoffman from my sister’s bookshelf and ended up crying because of how much it lingered with me. My heart ached not only for the characters, but the beauty created in their sorrows. I didn’t know what magical realism was, but I couldn’t get the writing out of my head.  

If I were in a magical realism book, it would be obvious that my life was all falling together for me to become a total MR nerd. Without knowing, I was drawn to the genre in so many forms of media. “Pan’s Labyrinth” is one of my favorite movies, partially because I can’t explain it. I don’t understand the world completely, so I keep learning more about the bizarre world director Guillermo del Toro created. I love not completely knowing, because then I continue to want more. Rule #1 of writing: don’t give the reader everything.

After discovering this “weird in-between fantasy and real” was a common theme, I started researching the actual term.

I had two questions:

“What’s magical realism?” 

And

“Where can I get more?”

Art by Tomek Setowski

I read what I believe was my second magical realism book, The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton, after I graduated high school, and discovered the term “magical realism” for the first time. I found so much vulnerability in the poetic language, as if I were being shown the deepest secrets of the author’s mind through their words. I felt intimate with the world they found in this genre. I was one of the only people in my course who liked Bless Me Ultima (my third known encounter with MR); the majority of the class argued that it was “too weird” and “didn’t make sense”, while I argued this suspension of reality is what we search for in literature.

My next encounter with magical realism was in graduate my class Theorizing Queer Adolescent Literature when we read “When the Moon Was Ours” by Anna-Marie McLemore, a book about a young girl with roses growing out of her wrists, and (spoilers!) a young trans boy who eventually is transformed into the body he always desired, and all I wanted was for that to be true. I wanted to see this beauty in real life. My heart strings were tugged, and my mind begged for more. At this point, I knew I loved magical realism. I love the suspension of reality, the focus on the beauty of language. Most of all though, I loved the magic.  

At this point, I started researching more books in the genre.

Falling into Gabriel García Márquez showed me an inkling of why I love it. First, before knowing about the background, I was just immediately drawn to the beautiful language.

Although I fell in love first and foremost with the actual language and books of magical realism, there was more that drew me to it. I loved learning of the connection between magical realism and Spain. I am Spanish, but not super connected to my culture; my Spanish grandmother lives across the country, I refused to learn Spanish until tenth grade, and let’s be honest: I don’t “look Spanish” according to people, (or stereotypically Spanish, which is another issue on its own) and my love of magical realism has been questioned because of that. This made me think more about why I love it.

Hearing inklings of my family’s journey moving to America from Spain captivated me, and I saw this genre as a tiny way to be more connected to my culture across the ocean. I felt transported.


I read “One Hundred Years of Solitude” by the king of magical realism, Gabriel García Márquez. While I was carrying the book around, my mom told me it was her favorite book, and reading it made me feel a little bit closer to her as well. Everything was just falling together. Finally, I started researching the actual genre of magical realism, also known as magic realism, marvelous realism, or fabulism.

According to Encyclopedia Britannica, magical realism is a “chiefly Latin-American narrative strategy that is characterized by the matter-of-fact inclusion of fantastic or mythical elements into seemingly realistic fiction”. Although Latin-American, its roots are in Germany, and the term “magic/magical realism” was first used by German photographer, art historian, and art critic Franz Roh in 1925 (Slemon, 9). Although it is most popular in literature, it can be found in any form of art: paintings, movies, et cetera.

As Maggie Ann Bowers beautifully puts it in “Magic(al) Realism”, the genre “magic realism” is “the concept of the ‘mystery [that] does not descend to the represented world, but rather hides and palpitates behind it” while “magical realism” is “commingling of the improbable and the mundane” (Bowers, 74). I love this mystery that doesn’t need to be explained. I’m okay with it hiding and never truly being discovered.

There is some contestation whether the term “magic realism” should only apply to Latinx authors, but the issue in this requires each author to disclose their identity, which if they want to is great, but I really think that’s another issue in this: a policing of the genre, by all identities. This policing forces some authors to validate their writing and divulge potentially personal information, which for some is perfectly fine, but in general, I think that’s pretty weird to insist upon.

Why is their background your business?

For some authors, they don’t want their identity to be central to the reading of the novel, or simply they don't want it as a public fact in general, and that should be respected. Varying identities in authorship is amazing, and something I would love to see more of, but an author, like myself writing this blog, should not have to immediately preface their work with their identity. But I do.

Nonetheless, I still love the genre, and writing about it.

My journey in this genre has helped me discover more about my family, myself, and the world.
Magical realism for me has become an escape from the world. In times where I felt like life didn’t make sense, everything fell together in this genre, because things didn’t have to follow the logic of our world. When life didn’t make sense, when I stared at the hate in our world, I wanted just a glimpse of beauty. Beauty was found in times of hate and oppression in these books.

Magical realism is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I want to emphasize something: It is for everyone, no matter their background. I think everyone should at least try it, and I think those of any age or identity should at least experience it once. If you love it, read about it, research it, honor the background and roots of it. It is not only beautiful; it is necessary to be accessible to the world. The whole world. For some, it can be an escape, an exploration. A reader can escape this world and explore another one more fantastical, more beautiful, more magical. A world like in When the Moon Was Ours where flowers grow from wrists and a trans boy born in the body he doesn’t align with can have the body he always should have had with a drink of a potion. A world like that.

There’s something so beautiful about that. The possibility.

Magical realism is full of possibility.


For me, reading magical realism is a reparation of some of the darkness in life, by seeing that reparation happen in books. This can be seen in When the Moon Was Ours, when a trans boy can magically transform to have the body he always desired. Magical realism brings light to my world, and I think it can bring light to others. This escape that I found, this suspension of disbelief, became a way of coping, because for a little while during my reading, I could believe that anything was possible.

I was right.

Anything is possible. It doesn’t matter if that anything is in a book, because a book is real to me.

-SS

Sources:
“Magic Realism.” ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA, https://www.britannica.com/art/magic-realism.
Slemon, Stephen. Magic realism as post-colonial discourse Archived 2018-04-25 at the Wayback Machine. In: Canadian Literature #116 (Spring 1988),pp. 9-24, p. 9 http://canlit.ca/canlitmedia/canlit.ca/pdfs/articles/canlit116-Magic(Slemon).pdf